It's Going To Be A SuperTime
by Miss Mischief Managed
Summary: Sam and Dean encounter Storybrooke
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing- no characters, no places. Zip, zero, nada. **

**Enjoy :)**

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><p>The Winchester brothers were driving through rural Maine, making their way to Bobby's after receiving a call for some help with a demon situation.<p>

"Could you turn that down?" Sam asked Dean for the umpteenth time that day. In response, Dean turned the volume dial up.

"_What? Sorry, I can't hear you_," he shouted over the music. Sam scoffed and turned his head to look out the window. They were in a forested area and it was almost evening. Sam then turned his attention back to the road, just in time to spot a wolf standing in the middle of the road, directly in their path.

"Woah, Dean, look out!" Sam yelled.

"Geezes!" The car swerved, narrowly avoiding the wolf and instead hitting a sign that read 'Welcome To Storybrooke.' The two brothers crashed forwards. Dean braced himself with one hand and then soccer-mommed Sam across the chest.

Smoke was coming out of the hood of the Impala. Dean glanced sideways at Sam.

"You okay, Sammy?" he asked.

"Yeah, you?"

"I'm good." They sat there for a moment, processing.

"I didn't know there were wolves in Maine," Sam said. Dean shrugged and got out of the car to survey the damage.

"Apparently," Dean answered as Sam stepped out of the car.

"How bad is it?" Sam asked Dean.

"I dunno, but it looks like we'll be staying in Storybrooke for a few days, that's for sure." Dean answered before sighing dramatically. "And I just rotated the tires."

Sam eyed him oddly. He reached through his rolled down window and grabbed his laptop and case from the seat. "Yeah, okay, we better get going. Town can't be too far away." The two set off down the road.

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><p>Emma and Henry were eating grilled cheese in their booth at Granny's Diner.<p>

"Hey, Mom, look!" Henry exclaimed, pointing out the window with a cheesy finger. Two strangers were walking in the road, heading for the diner.

"Huh. Who are they?" Emma asked her son. He shrugged.

"I don't know, I don't remember seeing them in my book," he answered.

The door opened and the two men walked in. One was tall, with brown hair that went past his chin and tucked behind his ears, brown eyes, and a face kind of like a lost puppy. The other was shorter, with shorter blondish hair and hazel eyes. His face seemed more hardened and tired than his companion's. Emma took a mental note that they were both attractive. _Very_ attractive. They sat down at the bar.

She turned slowly back to face Henry. "You're sure you haven't seen them in your book?" she asked again. He nodded. "Yup." "Huh," she puffed. "Okay, Henry, stay here. I'm commencing Operation Tiger Shark, alright?" He nodded again. She slid out of the booth and approached the bar. Henry took another bite of his sandwich. "Mom's getting good with code names," he murmurred to himself, chewing.

Emma sat down at the bar to the left of the newcomers, a stool between herself and the shorter, yet hotter, stranger. Ruby was working behind the bar and taking the orders of the newcomers.

"I'll have a bacon cheeseburger and a cherry pie," the man to her right said. Emma's eyes widened slightly. She didn't it was possible for someone's voice to sound that deep _and_ that hot. She mentally slapped herself for even thinking that. She was _not_ looking for a relationship _or_ a fling.

"I'll have a Caesar salad, thanks," the long haired guy said. Ruby nodded while she wrote their order, and then she walked over to Emma. Long hair guy pulled out a laptop almost as soon as Ruby was gone. Emma took notice, but didn't think too much of it.

"Hey, Ruby. I'll take the usual, please," Emma told her friend.

"Coming right up," was the response and Ruby went off to do her job again.

"Come here often, I take it?" the deep throated man to her right said. She turned slightly- just enough to face him. "Yup," she answered slowly and popping the 'p'.

"Would you happen to know who could get us a tow?" He gestured to himself and his companion.

"Yeah, why?" she responded.

"Need a tow," he answered grudgingly. Emma studied him.

"How long are you two staying?" she asked.

"No longer than we absolutely have to," he answered. "I'm Dean, this is my brother, Sammy." He gestured to the man with the laptop who muttered, "Just Sam."

"Emma," she said back to him. He bobbed his head once in acknowledgement.

"Where can we go to get this tow, Emma?" he said slowly. Ruby swung by with Emma's hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon. Dean eyed the combination curiously.

"Billy can probably get you one. I thought I saw him in here earlier," She swirled around on her stool, hot cocoa in hand and took a small sip, looking around the diner for his face. She frowned when she realized he was no longer there. She glanced at Henry quickly to see if he was doing okay and he caught her eye, gave her a thumbs-up, and smiled and she returned one. She swivelled back around to face Dean again. "Sorry, he left already. But I can give you a ride to his shop, if you want."

Dean nodded. "That'd be great, thanks.

"So who's the kid?" he asked her, motioning in Henry's direction with a casual hand.

"He's my son. Henry," she answered.

"Oh, so… you're married?" She could've sworn his face fell, but only for a second. He was either good with keeping his face in check or she had misread him. She was leaning towards the former.

"God, _no_. His dad left the picture before _I_ even knew I was pregnant." Emma crumpled a napkin, trying to control her facial expressions and look calm. For some reason, she didn't seem to be tricking Dean, but he didn't say anything, probably because Ruby was coming over with his and his brother's food. Emma slid off the stool and stood up.

"Well, I'll leave you two to your food. Just holler when you're done and I'll take you to Billy's." Dean nodded again and she walked away from the bar to sat back down in her booth with Henry.

Henry was practically bouncing with curiosity. "So, how's Operation Tiger Shark going?" he asked, oozing excitement.

"So far, pretty good. We're going to give them a ride to Leroy after we're all done here, they need a tow. I'm going to drop you off at Regina's before I drop them off, okay?" Henry's face fell.

"Do I have to?" he begged her.

"Sorry, kid. I have to investigate for the mission." That perked him up just a little.

"You'll tell me everything?"

"I promise." He grinned and she smiled back at him. They finished their food in companionable silence.

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><p>"I'm telling you, Dean, there is no mention of a Storybrooke, Maine ever, <em>any<em>where. It's like this place doesn't exist," Sam said dumbfoundedly,

"There's gotta be something. Obviously this place is real, people actually live here. Maybe this place has a library we can check out or something." Dean finished up his burger and nudged Sam with his elbow.

"C'mon, we're getting a ride with my new lady friend." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sam muttered, "God help her," under his breath and put away his laptop. They got off their stools and approached the two at the table.

"We're ready when you are," Dean told Emma, then turned to face Henry. "Hiya, I'm Dean." He offered him his hand. Henry looked at it, seemingly awed for a second, (Dean wondered if this kid even _had_ a father figure) then shook it eagerly. "I'm Henry."

"Nice to meet you, Henry. This is my brother, Sam." He gestured to Sam, who was on his phone, searching Storybrooke. Dean rolled his eyes for show and whacked the back of Sam's head.

"Introduce yourself to the kid," he barked.

"Ow, okay!" Sam winced and rubbed his head. "I'm Sam." Henry and Emma shared a look, one that Dean called the '_I don't really know this people and I feel like I'm missing something here_' look.

"Alrighty then, let's head out," Emma said, then turned to lead the way, Henry close behind and the brothers following him.

"I call shotgun!" Henry called as they walked out of the diner. Dean and Sam looked at each other and shrugged.

When Dean realized they were heading to a small yellow bug, he groaned loudly. "_I'm_ bigger than that _thing_!"

"Hey, that thing is your ride! Don't insult my car unless would you rather walk," Emma said, defending the bug like Dean would defend his own.

Dean and Sam somehow managed to crawl in the back of the bug and sit without suffocating, but they were still squished and extremely uncomfortable _and what the hell was digging into Dean's_ _back_? Emma and Henry sat smugly in the front seat and she started up the engine and pulled away.

After a moment, Sam spoke. "Is there a library in town?" he asked.

"Yeah," Emma answered. "Why?"

"Oh, um, I'm just doing some research and, um, wanted to look something up."

Henry took interest in the conversation. "What kind of research?" he asked.

"Well, uh, mostly ancient myths and stuff like that." Dean stepped on Sam's foot for being stupid and saying too much (honestly, he was _supposed_ to be smarter than this) and Sam cringed in pain.

"Oh, so you mean like fairy tales?" Henry said, turning in his seat to face the back. Dean noticed Emma looked pretty tense as soon as there was a mention of fairy tales. "Storybrooke knows a lot about those. I have a book you can borrow if you want." Emma definitely looked uncomfortable now.

"I don't know if you should be lending that to people. _Remember_ when you _lost it_?" she cautioned. Dean looked at Sam, who looked just as interested as he felt.

"Yeah, but I trust him." Henry turned back around to look out the window.

"You just met him! How can you trust him? No offense," she added, making eye contact with Sam in the rearview mirror.

"None taken," he said.

"Henry, you're keeping your book." She sighed, obviously trying to relax, before continuing."Anyways, the library is part of the clock tower. You can't miss it." Emma pulled the car over next to a large, refined house. Henry sighed a unbuckled.

"Do I have to go?" he asked, pleading with his eyes.

"Yes, now get out. Tell Regina I'll pick you up tomorrow." He got out of the car and left the door open.

"Okay. Love you." She smiled.

"Love you, too. Bye." Henry shut the car door and turned to walk down the sidewalk leading to the mansion.

"Who's Regina?" Dean asked Emma. He wondered if she was hot in this town seemed attractive; including that old lady he had seen for a moment at the diner. (For and elderly woman, she was good-looking.)

"Henry's mom," Emma said distractedly as she pulled away from the fancy house.

"Wait, what? You're- you two are together?" Dean failed to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"What? No. It's complicated," she said, making eye contact with him in the rearview mirror for a second.

"Please. Try me." He honestly wanted to know more about this blonde woman who seemed pretty badass and yet not a bitch.

"Fine. Long story short- I'm his birth mom, she's his adopted mother. She raised him, I didn't." Her voice was filled with regret as she spoke the last sentence.

"Well, why?" he asked as they turned into a different street.

Emma let out an exasperated sigh. "His dad left me before even _I_ knew I was pregnant. And I couldn't raise him, I was only eighteen and I didn't really have the best living situation. I wanted to give him his best chance and it wasn't with me. That's how Regina got him."

Sam nudged Dean and mouthed '_I got nothing' _waving his phone in defeat. Dean gave him a slight nod.

The rest of the ride was spent in an almost, but not quite, awkward silence, until they pulled to a stop next an auto repair place. Emma hopped out of the car first, helping Sam wriggle out of it before she helped Dean. (That car was frickin' tiny in his opinion.)

After they were finished stretching, Emma spoke. "Okay, I'll take you guys into see Billy, but then I have to go to work." Dean looked at her curiously.

"Where do you work?" he asked. He was genuinely interested.

"I'm the sheriff," she answered. Dean's hazel eyes widened slightly and he choked out, "_Sheriff_? As in_ law enforcement_?" She regarded him with a look of wariness.

"Yes, a sheriff as in law enforcement. What other kind is there?" she said, filled with sarcasm. She blinked at him.

He stared back. "Good point," he said after a moment. Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably and Dean turned to glare at him.

"Uh… Billy's in _here_, right?" he asked, pointing to the auto shop. Dean heard Emma sigh from beside him.

"Right." Her voice was hard, almost like ice. Dean almost turned to look at her, but thought better of it. Instead he waited for her to lead the way into the shop and he couldn't help but wonder just who this Swan woman was exactly as he trailed behind her.

Emma had left after introducing them to Billy, who seemed like a nice guy, but kind of squirrelly, like a cornered mouse. He sent out a guy with a tow truck to get the Impala and bring it in for repairs.

Now Sam and Dean were at Granny's Bed and Breakfast (_who the hell was this Granny woman?_) and Dean was just getting comfortable when Sam asked him, "So what's the deal? Do you like Emma or something?" Dean scoffed.

"No, I'm not interested," he said outloud, but inside he wondered if that was really the case.

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><p><strong>Hey, guys! This is my first crossover fic and only my second fic, so feel free to guve pointers or point out any mistakes, alright?<strong>

**Reviews are great, kind of like extreme moose tracks, but without the mess.**

**~Liv**


	2. Chapter 2

Emma was relaxing with Mary Margaret after her shift at the the station. They were sitting on the couch, drinking hot cocoa (with cinnamon, of course) and watching the Princess Bride because it was on TV and it was kind of a rule in the Blanchard/Swan/Nolan house. David wasn't home yet, but he'd be back in time for the end, hopefully.

"So you and Henry met people who aren't from Storybrooke today?" Mary Margaret asked Emma.

"Mhmm," she answered, sipping her drink.

"Weird." Mary Margaret turned to face her daughter. "Did they say why they were here?"

Emma shook her head. "No, they said they just said they needed a tow." She cocked her head. "Why do _you_ think they're here?" she asked.

"Did you feel like they knew? About us? About Storybrooke?" Mary Margaret got up and went into the kitchen, leaving her cocoa behind. She turned on the sink and started scrubbing the dishes, which was her nervous tick. Emma paused before answering. They didn't seem like they knew anything, but then again, there was the fact that Sam was researching _mythology_ in _Storybrooke_, and Dean never gave her a real answer as to why they were even near town in the first place. She didn't really consider these things to be too extreme though.

"I don't think they do," Emma finally responded. Mary Margaret put down the dish she was ferociously cleaning and turned to face Emma.

"You don't _think_ so? Emma, we have to be sure. And make sure they _never_ know! Storybrooke won't be safe if word gets out that it's full of fairy tale freaks. We have nowhere to go, unless we're willing to lose our memories, in which case, what's even the _point_?" Mary Margaret sighed and went back to cleaning the dishes. Emma leaned back against the couch, thinking. Her mother was right. She had to know just what Dean and his brother knew.

She stood up from the couch, setting down her drink. She marched purposefully towards the door and grabbed her red jacket from its hook.

Mary Margaret crooked her neck and stared at Emma.

"Emma? Where are you going?" she called slowly.

"Out. Don't worry, I'll be back tonight," she said while stepping out of the door. As she walked away from the apartment, she murmured, "Hopefully," under her breath.

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><p>"I'm not going with you," Sam stated, yet again. Dean twitched his jaw.<p>

"Why not? C'mon, I need a drink and a wingman," he insisted.

"No, I'm staying here. Someone has to find out about Storybrooke." Dean grabbed his jacket and pointed at Sam. "You're a bitch," he said accusingly.

"And you're a jerk," Sam responded while smirking. Dean glared back.

There was a knock at the door, causing them both to jump. Sam threw a blanket over the more disturbing parts of his scattered research (i.e. pictures of mutilated bodies, images of Devil's Traps and summoning rituals, their dad's journal [which was turned to a gruesome image of an exorcism] etc, etc) and Dean grabbed his gun, ready to use it or shove it in his waistband, whatever the situation called for.

Dean slowly opened the door and was shocked when he saw Emma standing in front of him.

"Hey," she said.

"Uh, hi," he answered, mind running. What the hell was she doing here?

Sam stood up, faking a cough. "I'm gonna go… get a drink… from the vending machine."

Dean wanted to plead him to stay, but instead he said, "Hey, get me a Coke." Sam nodded and left the room, which forced Emma to step in. Sam shut the door behind him, loudly. Dean and Emma both started a little at the sound. Dean shook it off and discreetly put his gun in his waistband.

"So… uh, what are you doing here?" he asked Emma, who was examining the room with a wary eye. She turned back to face him, locking her gaze on his.

"Well, I'm the sheriff."

"Uh-huh…"

"And I wanted to ask about the circumstances of the accident that took place earlier." Dean bobbed his head and took a step back.

"Well, there was a wolf in the middle of the road and I swerved and hit your fancy sign instead of it." He smirked.

"Is it alright if I have you come down to the station to fill out a report? Or we could do it tomorrow." She fidgeted and crossed her arms.

"I'd love to do it with you tomorrow," he answered. His smirk grew as her jaw dropped slightly in disbelief.

"Why do you come with me and we'll out the report now? And then we won't have to do anything tomorrow," she retorted. His smirk disappeared for a second, just as one appeared on her face. He exhaled deeply and quickly pulled on his coat.

"Lead the way, birdie," he said, gesturing to the closed door. It was her turn for her smirk disappear. She glared at him.

"Don't call me birdie, or I'll have you in the cell overnight for harassment," she threatened.

"I get all tingly when you get feisty like that," he countered. She rolled her eyes and opened the door, walking out of the door without even checking to see if Dean was following. He sighed and sent a quick text to Sammy, then followed the cop down the hall.

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><p>Emma and Dean walked out of the bed and breakfast and each began leading the way to their own car. Realizing what they were doing, they both stopped and turned to stare at each other, almost daring the other to say they were taking their car. Emma stopped and stood still, her face deadpan, as Dean realized she wasn't moving and slowly trekked over to her bug. She fought back a smug grin and unlocked the car.<p>

"Can I drive at least?" he asked, taking his sweet time approaching the Volkswagen.

Her smirk broke through.

"Nope," she answered and proceeded to hop in the driver's seat. She heard his sigh even after she shut the door and she rolled her eyes in response. He clambered into the passenger's seat and shut the door with more force than necessary, but not really enough to call it a slam, so all Emma did was roll her eyes again (she'd been doing that a lot around him, what was _with_ that?).

"This shouldn't take too long. Hopefully," Emma said as they drove away.

"I dunno, I kind of like spending time with you," he said, turning to wink at her. She snorted.

"I'm not sorry that I can't say the same," she retorted.

"Expect when you're being rude. I don't like that- as much," he mumbled, turning back to look out the window.

"Sorry," she said before she even realized what she was saying or who she was saying it to. She cocked her head and groaned internally, mentally slapping herself (she was doing that a lot too, seriously, what the hell?).

"Was that an apology?" Dean said in shock, turning back to face her. "I don't even know you and I can tell this is a rare occasion." Emma refused to look at him.

"Don't get used to it," she shot back.

"Trust me, I won't," he said, again turning to the window. Her head shifted unintentionally and she saw him staring out the window. She couldn't help but wonder why she had the feeling he didn't trust easy. She fidgeted at the idea of having anything in common with this stranger and she decided she'd just focus on the road they were driving along.

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><p>They pulled to a stop at what Dean assumed was the police station. It was a weird feeling when he walked in- he had rarely been in jail without handcuffs on (he should probably make sure Emma didn't find out about that, but it wasn't like he was going to go shouting from the rooftops- even if he was drunk). Emma led the way and Dean slowly meandered behind her. This station didn't really give a jail vibe. It only had one cell and no one was in it. There was a small office and a secretary's desk, not much else. Emma walked into the office and pulled some forms out of the desk- well, her desk he realized.<p>

"This is what you need to fill out," she said and handed him an inkpen. He took the paper from her and examined it with a doubtful eye.

"You seriously dragged me here for _this_?" he asked glancing back at her. He could've sworn she had blushed slightly.

"Yes,_ I_ did. Then when _you're_ finished_ I_ can ask _you_ questions, and then _I_ get to fill out _my_ report. It's easier to do _all at once_," she said almost hostilely, immediately proving the blush was really more of a flush of anger.

Dean pursed his lips, bit back his retort, and grabbed the pen from her as well. "Better get to it then," he said and walked out of the office to sit down behind the desk in the lobby/jail area (what the hell was this area called? Sam would know, not that he'd ever ask him). He clicked the pen and began filling the dumbest questionare he'd ever taken.

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><p>Emma was almost slightly shocked when Dean actually took the form and walked out to fill it out. She let out a small sigh and reached in her phone to call Mary Margaret.<p>

She picked up on the second ring. "Hey, Emma, where are you? You just ran off," she said and Emma noticed the hurt in her voice.

"I'm at the station, there were some papers that I had to finish," Emma said. "And I had to get the accident report from Dean," she added.

"Dean? Who's he? Oh, never mind- one of the strangers I bet. Hey, put David on the phone, he hasn't been answering his," Mary Margaret said, barely pausing for breath.

Emma was confused, her father wasn't at the station.

"He's not here, I thought he was on his way home," she told her mother.

"Well he's not back yet. I call you back if he's not here in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Hold on, Mary Margaret. He could be at Granny's or some place, let's not freak out yet," she said, just as there was a knock on her door. She turned to see Dean, holding his form.

"I gotta go, don't worry, David'll be fine." She hung up after Mary Margaret's fretful good-bye and motioned for Dean to enter.

He came in and set the paper down on her desk. "This is the dumbest thing I've ever had to do. And believe me, I've done stupid things," he scoffed.

"You didn't even try to finish?" she asked. "Seriously?"

"It's hard to concentrate out there, it kind of smells like sulfur," he said, the last word came out harsher, like he hated sulfur.

"Huh, that's weird. I wonder if David knows anything about that," she said, stepping out of the office. He was right- it did smell faintly of rotten eggs.

"Who's David?" he asked.

"My fa- my friend," she corrected herself, almost revealing part of her secret.

"Where's he?" he asked, and if Emma didn't know any better, she'd say he almost looked concerned for a moment.

"I'm not sure, on his way home, or at Granny's," she answered, shrugging.

"What does he look like?" he asked. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you care?"

"Well, I was hoping you could drop me off at Granny's. If he was there, I'd be able to call and tell you," he answered.

Emma crossed her arms. "You don't have my number," she said.

"9-1-1," he countered with a smirk. She twitched her mouth, admitting to herself that he had her there.

"How 'bout that ride now?" he asked. She sighed and pulled out her keys from her pocket and led the way out to the bug.

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><p>Emma let Dean out at the curb in front of Granny's. She had given him a description of David, telling him that the only reason she was telling him was so he'd come back tomorrow to finish the report. Dean kept an eye out for anyone matching description when he entered the diner. He hadn't actually wanted to come here, but the trace of sulfur was something he wanted to look into if David was here, especially if they were dealing with his demonic possession.<p>

He caught a glimpse of a man who matched the description he was given sitting in a far booth. The man didn't seem to be eating anything, just stirring his tea. He suddenly looked up and winked at Dean. Dean groaned internally, but waved to him awkwardly anyways, for appearances. He pulled out his phone and called Sam's speed dial, stepping out of the diner and began walking towards the bed and breakfast.

He didn't answer, so Dean left a short message.

"Guess Storybrooke isn't so fairy tale after all. I'm pretty sure we've got a demon on our hands."

He put his phone back in his pocket, completely forgetting to call and tell Emma that he found her friend- he had bigger things to worry about, like whether or not they still had that demon-killing knife in the Impala or not.

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><p><strong>Hey, guys! Chapter 2 yay! Expect the updates to be this far apart or longer, school's been busy lately! Thanks to reviewers, favoriters, and followeers, I appreciate it a lot!<strong>

** Wolfy Guest who said: "Nice chapter, I really liked how Dean assumed Emma was married, then thought she was lesbian. I thought that was really funny. You have Emma, Sam, and Dean down in my opinion. Good job! Can't wait till your next update." -Thanks, I thought that was a good humor bit. I was either going to do that or have Ruby think Sam and Dean were together, but I figured that was too cliche. **

**Review, it really motivates my muse!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even the Velveteen Rabbit**

Dean knocked on the hotel door (he had forgotten his keys) and waited impatiently for Sam to open it. He forcefully tapped his knuckles against the door again, just as Sammy twisted and pulled the door inwards, causing Dean to stumble in. He glared at his younger brother and straighten his clothes forcefully.

"Did you get my message?" he asked, not giving Sam any time to make a comment about his 'agility'.

"Yeah, about that. Who do you think is possessed?" Sam answered. "You weren't very clear."

"Emma's friend, David. The station smelt like sulfur and he wasn't there," Dean explained, knowing it wasn't the best answer he had ever given. He removed his gun from his waistband and sat down on the bed, setting it beside him.

"That's it? So you just assumed it would be demons," Sam spoke judgingly, putting his hands on his hips. Dean shut and rolled his eyes.

"And there's the whole Storybrooke isn't on the map and has no trace of existence," Dean responded tiredly.

"Where does David live?" Sam said, in a way that made Dean know he was just trying to appease him. Dean kicked himself mentally. He had never asked Emma that. Outwardly, he smirked as an idea came to him.

"I don't know, but I do know who to call." He slid his phone out of his pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

* * *

><p>Emma had finally gotten Mary Margaret relaxed (David still wasn't back yet) and she had just made herself some hot chocolate when she received a call that had been forwarded from the station. She didn't recognize the number, but she had an idea of who it might be. She sighed heavily before answering.<p>

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" she said, trying to sound helpful (just in case she was wrong) but coming off as more indifferent.

"You are my emergency," said the voice she really, really didn't want to hear right now. "Also, I have a question. Where does David live?" She straightened up from her slack position on the couch.

"Why the hell do you need to know that?" she inquired, setting her cocoa down on the coffee table.

"Well, actually, I was wondering if there was any chance Sam and I could look around and see what evidence we can find." Emma's eyes widened and she actually snorted into the phone.

"You do realize you are talking to the _sheriff_, right? I got this, he's probably just at the animal shelter." she stood up, deciding that she'd go there, just to check.

"Sam and I can help, trust me." She heard shuffling in the background and she grabbed her gun and made her way to the coat rack.

"Oh, really? Why should I?" she asked harshly. There was a pause at the other end of the phone. She almost felt sorry, but not enough. She put the phone to her shoulder and called to Mary Margaret. "Snow? I'm going to see if David's at the shelter, alright? I'll be back soon." She pulled on her coat and stepped out the door, before any protests could be made. She put the phone back to her ear just in time to hear, "-ma, we're federal agents, okay? We can help you."

"Sorry, what?" she responded after a moment, she was in disbelief.

"Sam and I are undercover federal agents," he answered. She scoffed loudly into the phone.

"Really?" she asked sarcastically. "And you didn't mention this before because…," she drifted off waiting for an answer that was hopefully worth hearing.

"Like I said, undercover. Need to know scenarios only," he replied.

"And a missing person who probably isn't actually missing is need to know," she said in a monotone, stepping back inside the apartment.

"Emma, just trust me. Just take a leap of faith and trust me," Dean said, sounding partially exasperated with her. She clenched and then relaxed her jaw just before answering.

"Alright, fine. Let's pretend I believe you. Because I don't. Could you really help me if David were missing?" she asked him, just as the door opened. She turned to see a familiar red haired man walk through the door.

"Which, by the way, he isn't," she added into the phone.

"We don't know that," Dean insisted.

"Actually, we do. He just came home a second ago," she answered smugly.

"So you checked his house anyways because you thought he might be," Dean responded.

"Or we just live together," she said without really thinking. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she almost regretted them, before deciding she would just let him squirm for a moment and then she'd tell him they were just roommates (because how do you explain that you are the same age as your father). She sighed silently and shrugged off her coat, rehanging it and putting her gun away.

"Oh, uh, well, I guess I'll just leave you to alone to do… whatever," Dean replied and then hung up the phone almost immediately after finishing. She didn't even have time to read his emotions, he had hung up so fast.

She slowly drew her phone away from her ear as she turned around to go to her room. She noticed David had already gone into his bedroom with Mary Margaret. She sighed heavily. Yes, it was her intention to let Dean believe she was with David, but only for a moment (because it was a gross and disturbing thought, but how many times she could she mess with Dean like this?).

She rubbed her temples with her free hand and began making her way to her room, setting her phone down on the coffee table as she passed it.

Just as she was about to open her bedroom door, something hard and heavy slammed into the back of her head. She groaned and fell, seemingly in slow-motion, landing harshly on the ground. She managed to turn enough to see David, but _not_ David, standing above her. His eyes were entirely black and he had an evil look on his face. She thought she was already dreaming as she drifted into unconsciousness.

**Sorry SORRY** **s_orry _I haven't updated in forever and I feel terrible. I'm going to try harder, pinky-promise. But expect shorter chapters like this one.**

**Thanks to reviewers and followers! You brighten my day!**

**~Love, Liv**


	4. Chapter 4

Dean woke up to the sound of the door slamming shut. He groaned and pulled himself up and into standing position by the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Good, you're up. Finally," Sam's voice came from his left and he turned to see him standing by the door, sweaty from his run. Dean just twitching his eyelids in response. "You okay?" Sam asked.

Dean stretched and nodded. "Yeah, just tired is all," he responded. "Took me a while to get to sleep."

Sam let out a huff. "I know. You were tossing and turning all night. I thought maybe something was eating at you."

Dean shrugged and shook his head. "Nope, I'm good." Sam didn't look like he believed him, but he didn't push it. He went into the bathroom to clean up and Dean waited for him to shut the door before trying to call Emma again (he'd tried twice after originally hanging up on Emma, but when she didn't answer, he figured she was just pissed at him for acting like a child).

_You wouldn't think it'd be so hard to get in touch with the cops_, he thought to himself. He sighed again and shut his phone, standing up and walking to grab his jacket and gun.

"Hey, Sammy!" he called, "I'm headed out!"

"Umm, okay!" came the response as he was walking out the door. He hopped into the Impala and drove to the library, deciding to check out all the local myths.

Upon actually entering the establishment, he was surprised to find a young, attractive woman stocking the shelves. He smiled to himself before making his way over to her.

"Hi, I'm Dean," he said, trying not to startle her, but doing just that anyways. She let out a small yelp and whacked him,_hard_, with a book in the chest twice. He winced and held up his hands in surrender.

"I was just going to ask where I could find local legends," he groaned. The woman gasped and set the book down.

"I'm-so-sorry, oh-my-goodness, are-you-hurt?" she rushed, patting his chest and shoulders, checking for bruises.

"Yeah, no, I'm good. It's fine, really," he answered, shrugging it off. _How did someone so small pack that big of a punch,_ he wondered.

"I'm really sorry, it's just, I'm not used to strangers- well, people _I_ don't know- coming in here."

"No, it's really okay," he assured her. "But, uh," he coughed, his chest was probably red in the shape of a book underneath his shirt, "back to the legends here, do you have any? I'm helping my brother with an article."

He noticed her eyes turn wary, but she nodded. "Yes, we have some over this way. Follow me," she said, walking away quickly, not even checking to see if Dean was following her, but, of course, he was.

* * *

><p>Sam was walking to Granny's for breakfast, wishing that Dean would forget the Impala for once in his life because today was <em>cold<em>. He shivered and folded his arms across his chest, thinking warm thoughts. He watched the other people who were walking the streets as well- there was a man with an umbrella who was walking a Dalmatian and there was a different man with a cane and long scarf and gave off a creeper-vibe.

Sam kept walking and turned to enter the diner, immediately hit with the aroma of pancakes and oatmeal that had had already been served. He seated himself in an empty booth, waiting for the waitress (Ruby, wasn't that her name?), so he could order. The doorbell rang again and he looked over, curious and bored, to see the sheriff's kid, Henry, walking in, looking rather upset. Of course, Ruby walked right over to him, past Sam, (he groaned internally) to see what was wrong.

The kid was near tears, gesturing wildly with his hands to get his point across to Ruby. Sam only hoped that whatever the problem was, it would be solved quickly because, _man_, he wanted some pancakes.

Ruby and Henry settled whatever it was and Henry sat himself at the bar, Granny handing him a muffin, and Ruby finally made her way over to take Sam's order.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a falsely chirpy voice.

"Yeah, I'll take the pancakes and a parfait, thanks," he said as she quickly scribbled the order, watching Henry out of the corner of her eye. "Everything okay?" he added, also glancing at Henry.

She jerked a little and then gave him her full attention. "Um, yeah, his mom forgot to pick him up from… his mom's… It doesn't normally doesn't happen, he's just a little concerned."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure," he answered. She left and came back a while later with his pancakes. He ate slowly, wondering whether or not maybe there was a case in Storybrooke.

** Wolfe- The apartment scene is coming up next!**

**Thanks for the continued reviews, faves, and follows! It really makes me write faster ;)**

**~Love, Liv**


	5. Chapter 5

Emma woke up, drowsy and with an extreme headache. She groaned and attempted to rub her eyes, but her hands were tied behind her back and she had been too tired to notice the fact.

Suddenly, the previous evening came back to her, although some of it was fuzzy. She definitely had dreamt that David assaulted her, there was no way it could possibly be him, although she had no idea who it could be- it wasn't like she went around pissing people off (well, _often_). She heard footsteps coming towards her and she just hoped whoever they were, they weren't too big for her to take on if she had the chance.

She dropped her head and closed her eyes to feign sleep, but _unfortunately_, she was too late.

"Keep that head up, bitch, I have to talk to you," a voice said while a hand yanked her head up by her hair. She squealed beneath her duct tape and squirmed. That voice sounded dreadfully familiar. What the hell was happening?

She opened her eyes to see David's face and she forced her tears back. She should've known it was too good to be true, but she was also hoping and praying her vision was deceiving her. And then she saw his eyes turn _completely_ black and she gave a small scream in shock.

'David' ripped off the duct tape from her mouth and this time she refused to react physically (but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't dying inside because this was the man who loved her so much even though he let her go and he had vowed to protect and was it a lie?).

"Well, well, well, little princess, the word down below says _your_ son has the Heart of the Truest Believer. So… you have until the count of three to tell me where he is. Or you're going to pay the price, and it won't be cheap, I'll tell you that right now.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

Emma blocked off the rest of the world as she struggled to keep a hold on her center and to avoid thoughts of the one thing she had gotten right in her crazy, messed up life: Henry.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Sam," Henry called to him as he was just about to leave the diner. "Can I talk to you?" Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised and slightly confused.<p>

"Uh, yeah, sure," he answered, joining Henry at the bar. "What's up?

"You know that book I was telling you about, the one with the fairy tales? Well, I want you to read it. And it's important too. Because it's all real. _Everything_ in that book is real here in Storybrooke. You _have_ to believe me."

"Slow down, kid. You're saying that fairytales are real here? I just don't see how that's possible," Sam asked, completely befuddled now.

"The Evil Queen cursed everyone in the Enchanted Forest so now they're in Storybrooke and my mom broke the curse because she's the savior and-"

"Okay, _slow down and explain slowly_,"

Henry calmed himself down and started talking, saying crazy, impossible things. And yet Sam believed every word the kid said.

When Henry had finally finished (good lord, it had taken about 45 minutes), Henry took a deep breath and a long drink., nervously tapping his knuckles against the counter as Sam pulled out his phone and dialed the speed number for Dean's current phone- because it was going to take a while to convince him this was something the two of them hand to handle.

* * *

><p>"Okay, I'll be right there." Dean hung up the phone and turned to Belle. "I gotta go, can I meet you back here in… well, how about tomorrow?"<p>

She nodded in response. "Yeah, absolutely. Just give me a call so I can unlock the door for you.

"Give me your hand," she commanded him, taking his hand (before he had even responded) and pulling out a pen from his shirt pocket and she quickly began to scribble down a number onto the back of it. "That's how you'll call me," she added, as if it was obvious (and it should've been).

Dean raised his eyebrows at her boldness and decided to add, "Maybe we can go get some coffee after that?"

"Maybe not," she replied with a wink, handing him back his hand and his pen and then turning to walk away (rather slowly it seemed to Dean).

He shook his head and started out of the library.

"Man, what is with this town and its attractive women?" he muttered as he walked away.

"I heard that!" Belle called after him and he chuckled, surprising himself when he actually blushed.

He met Sammy at the hotel room. "Whatcha got?" he asked as soon as he had shut the door behind himself.

"Well, actually, this is something I got from Henry, Emma's son," Sam stated, getting up to hand Dean a large book. He took it reading the title: _Once Upon a Time_. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"He insists everything in there actually happened. And if you skip to the ending, you find out that everyone was cursed and sent here. To Storybrooke. And there are plenty of monsters we've never heard of in that book. _And_ the monsters that we're familiar with have completely different characteristics. I mean, if this is real, it could be devastating to the world." Sam rubbed his head and looked exhausted, as if he had literally read the entire book in the 20 minutes he had had it (he might've have skimmed the whole thing, but even 20 minutes was pushing it for the nerd).

"So what, you're saying is we have even more monsters on our plate to kill. Why does that not even surprise me?" He sighed, sat down sluggishly on the bed, and tossed the book down next to him. Sam shrugged half-heartedly.

Dean suddenly jerked his head up. "Wait, so who is everyone?"

Sam shrugged again. "You can take some guesses from the pictures, but we don't even know that many people in this town." Dean bobbed his head and reached for the book again, flipping through the pages to look at the drawings.

"_Really_, Sammy? Always with the werewolves," he joked after seeing the image of 'Red Riding Hood' who looked strikingly like Ruby from the diner.

Sam glared at Dean. "Well at least she's not a baby," he retorted, stealing the book from Dean and flipping to a painting that showed 'Snow White' holding a baby in a blanket that had 'Emma' embroidered on border in purple. He practically shoved it in Dean's face, who just knocked it out of the way.

"You don't know hold old that book is," he shot at Sam.

"And neither do you." Sam smirked.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

* * *

><p><strong>Don't worry, they find out about Emma next chapter.<strong>

**Sorry about the updates :( , I feel terrible that I take so long :/. I promise I'm actually really busy between school and soccer.**

**Review guys, it seriously makes my day 100x better. Or message me, it's whatevs**

**~Love, Liv**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Review, please, it helps a lot ;)**

"Yeah, exactly, Bobby. The lore here is entirely backwards," Sam spoke into his phone. "Uh-huh, yeah. Maybe she can help- right, bye, Bobby." He hung up the phone and turned to Dean.

"Well? What did Bobby say?" Dean practically interrogated him.

Sam sighed and rubbed his face. "He said that it sounded like _Emma_ is the _Savior_ so we should go to her for help."

"What? But she was under a curse. She would've just found out about this whole thing."

"Hey, Bobby thinks it's our best shot. Probably because it's our only one."

Dean exhaled heavily and packed his gun away. "Alright, let's get to it then."

* * *

><p>"I'm going to ask you one last time- where's the boy?!" black-eyed David spat in her face, but Emma refused to even blink.<p>

"I'm. Not. _Telling_," she repeated for the umpteenth time. David backhanded her across the face and followed through with a swift kick to her already swollen shin. He had mover her to the bathroom, where she was tied into front of the door standing up. He had her hands tied above her head attached to the towel rack she had installed for Mary Margaret. Her feet were crossed before David had duct taped them together.

(Emma wasn't entirely sure, but she thought that he had just been drugging Mary Margaret so she was unconscious through… whatever this interrogation/kidnapping thing was).

She raised her head up defiantly as he clenched his hand in fist, preparing another blow. He was swinging towards her face when the apartment door opened and a voice called out, "Mom! Regina dropped me off! You were supposed to pick me up six hours ago." Emma's eyes widened. Any fatigue or pain she had been feeling faded and was replaced with concern.

"Hen-!" she called out weakly, trying to warn him but her voice was weak and David shoved a rag in her mouth before she could finish.

"Shhh," he hissed, eyes flashing back to their normal blue. "We wouldn't want to scare the boy now, would we?" He smirked evilly at her as he swung the door open to go take Henry- oh my god, she was going to lose Henry again-, then decided last minute to finish what he had started early and punched her across her face. She was already losing consciousness again as he shut the door forcefully behind him, jostling her.

* * *

><p>Dean walked out of Granny's, having gone in to ask for directions. He opened the Impala's door and got into gear, turning to Sam. "I got the address; it shouldn't take too long to get there."<p>

"Sweet, let's get going then," Sam replied, bobbing his head. Dean pulled away from the curb, glaring at Sam.

"What did you think we were going do?" he growled.

"Uh… I dunno." Sam shrugged. "Nothing, I guess." Dean pursed his lips and turned away.

"I could just make you walk you know."

"I think we both know I can take you any day." Sam was smirking, enjoying getting under Dean's skin.

"Oh really? Well, we'll see about that when we finish this… case-thingy," he fumbled. Sam scoffed.

"Yeah, alright then." Dean shook his head. "We're here." He pulled to the side of the road by an apartment building and parked. He and Sam hopped out of the car.

Dean turned to Sam and pointed his finger at him. "Here's the deal; we go in there and get Emma to explain… whatever this is… better and then we go. There isn't really an actual case here."

Sam sighed quietly, frustrated, but he didn't say anything, just shook his head as he approached the building.

Dean led the way to Emma's apartment (seeing as how he neglected to tell Sam the door number). He rapped quickly on the door several times. "Emma? It's Dean," he called when there was no answer. "Emma! Come on, open up!"

Sam shifted beside Dean. "The kid said she was home, right?"

"Yeah," Dean answered softly, pulling out his gun and cocking it. "Ready?"

"Yup." Sam pulled out his gun as well, motioning for Dean to get the door open. Of course, he did so by kicking in the door. They entered quickly, Dean going left and Sam taking right. Dean cleared the kitchen quickly (it was obvious there was no in there) and made his way to a hallway leading to what seemed to be a bed and bath, the bedroom being closer. He opened the door slowly, then entered, sweeping the room. A petite woman with raven hair lay sleeping on the bed, probably the Mary Margaret that Emma had told him about. He shut the door behind him, not really wanting to disturb her as he assumed that would happen when he spoke with Sam to Emma about… this stupid fairy tale crap. He moved on to the bathroom and when he opened the door, he saw Emma, bruised and bloody, tied to the towel rack attached to the door.

"Emma! Emma!" Dean set his gun down in the sink and untied her as quickly as he could. "Come on, Emma, wake up!" he begged in a hushed tone as he laid her gently down on the bath rug. "Sammy, get in here!" he shouted. He heard his footsteps thudding closer and he brushed Emma's hair out of her face and began checking her vitals. Her pulse was persistent, at least for someone who looked so beaten up, but her breathing was shallow. Sam stumbled into the bathroom.

"What the hell-?" Sam muttered. Dean snapped his gaze to his brother.

"Get some towels and find alcohol. We gotta clean her up," he commanded. He turned his attention back to Emma. He carefully slid one arm under her neck and shoulders and the other under her thighs. She groaned quietly in his arms and he lifted her up and carried her to the couch. He laid her down slowly, just as Sam had come with several damp towels and a bottle of rum.

"Thanks, Sammy," he murmured, taking everything from him. "Go check on the lady in the bedroom."

"Wait, what?" Sam sounded stunned.

"She looked like she was just sleeping, but now I'm not sure, so check."

"Okay, okay," he said as he turned and jogged away.

Dean sighed again and began to slowly wipe the dried blood of Emma's temple and jaw line. She groaned almost silently and started up, opening her eyes as she rose up.

"Wha- Dean?" she slurred. "Why are here? Where's Henry? Henry!" She tried to shove Dean aside, but he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back as gently as he could (at least as much as he could when making a severely injured person stay lying down).

"Emma, Emma, you gotta stay laying down, you're pretty beat up, okay?" Dean told her with concern. She looked into his eyes and hissed, her hand went up to her temple and she squeezed her eyes shut. She dropped her head down on the couch, defeated.

"What happened?" she whispered. "Where's Henry? _Where's my son_?"

Dean bit the inside of his cheek and started wiping of the blood from Emma's face again. "I- I have no idea what happened. Sammy and I just found you." He paused as Emma opened her eyes again. She looked almost completely broken and Dean took a deep breath before he dealt the final blow. "I don't know where Henry is. I'm sorry."

Emma tore her gaze away from him and bit back tears. She sat up shakily, despite Dean's protests.

* * *

><p>"No, I need to find Henry. He's in danger. David has him," she stated as she slowly began lacing her boots (Dean had gotten them for her, as per her request and against his advice). "Tell Sam to stay here with Mary Margaret, she's pretty shaken up."<p>

Dean knelt down in front of her and the couch, and began lacing her boots for her. "That I can handle. But I'm not letting you go after your roommate's psycho husband, who is _also_ your roommate, by yourself after you were assaulted by said roommate," he said, staring intently at her boots the entire time. "So I'm going with you."

"I don't need you to go with me, I'm _fine_," she said gruffly, snatching her laces back from him. "I can handle this _by myself_."

Dean stood up and backed away from the couch, brushing a hand through his hair. "Oh, really? Because there's no way you can just recover from something like that; I would know. You may think you're fine, but trust me: you'll see or hear something and you'll snap like a twig in the mud. And it might not happen today or tomorrow, or even this year, but it _will_ happen." At that point, Emma had stood up and approached him, a look of disgust in her eyes.

"That might have happened to you, but I've dealt with plenty of shit in my life. This isn't the first time I've been hurt. David- or-or whatever that was- has my son. And I'm going to get him back."

She turned and walked to the coat rack, pulling on her red leather jacket. She was just about to grab her gun when Dean asked, "What do you mean, 'whatever that was'? I thought you said it was David."

Her hand hovered in the space just above the weapon and she bit her lip and grabbed the gun. "I don't know. I just remember his eyes being solid black before I blacked out." She opened the door and left the apartment, the door thudding behind her.

Dean cursed under his breath and ran to the bedroom. Sam was rubbing Mary Margaret's back as she spoke softly to him. Sam looked at Dean.

"We got a case," Dean said. "Our friends from down below." Sam cursed quietly under his breath. "Stay here with Mary Margaret; I'm going to tail Emma."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Surprise, surprise**

Emma drove surprisingly fast for the sheriff- and only cop- in town, but for some reason, Dean wasn't terribly shocked. She turned hazardously and screeched to a halt in front of- _for the sake of all the pies-_ a pawn shop. This was not what Dean had in mind (not that he was sure what he had had in mind in the first place). Emma practically ran into the store as Dean parked in the alley. He got out of the Impala and walked over to Emma's bug, lounging against it while waiting for her to come back outside.

* * *

><p>Emma stormed through the door to Mr. Gold's pawn shop. She couldn't believe the nerve of Dean!- as if she wouldn't notice him tailing her. She had <em>told him<em> that she didn't need or want his help (even if she was conflicted with that herself- you would _think_ he'd _listen_ to her). She came to a halt at the counter and began ringing the bell incessantly. She needed to find Henry and she wanted that to happen as soon as possible.

"_What _is it, Miss Swan? You can stop ringing that dreaded bell." Emma jolted slightly, looking up from the bell to see Mr. Gold in all of his impish arrogance staring back at her. She mentally slapped herself and pulled herself together.

"I… need you help, Gold," she said, putting aside hostility (well, as much as she could). "Henry's been… well, Henry's missing."

"That's not exactly good parenting, _Sheriff_, nor is it my problem," he responded, reaching under the counter to get a rag. He started dusting some globe he had also brought out with the rag.

Emma resisted the urge to steal the rag from him. "He's your grandson. I'm not asking for anything other than a spell or an enchantment- just something to help me find him." Gold looked up, eyebrow raised.

"All magic-" he started but Emma cut him off.

"Comes with a price, yeah, well, I'm willing to pay; he's _my son_. You understand."

Gold scrutinized her with one of his menacing looks. "Alright, dearie, I'll see what I have to whip up for you." He left the counter and went to the back room. "Be here tomorrow morning, 7 a.m. sharp or no deal," he called.

Emma nodded to herself and turned to leave. She inhaled sharply at the sight of Dean leaning against her car. How the hell was she going to convince him to leave before he discovered Storybrooke's secret? And did she even _want _him gone?

* * *

><p>"So I'm confused. You're son is <em>missing<em> and you go to a _pawn shop_," Dean questioned her as she left the store, his eyes squintedand his face tilted. Emma just glared at him.

"Get off my car," she said, practically ripping open her car door. She was clearly not in the mood for this.

Nevertheless, Dean did straighten up and moved to the sidewalk. "Seriously, Emma. I can help you."

She glanced at him through slotted eyes and slid into her trusty bug. _But why?_ she thought to herself as she closed the door. Damn, it was hot. She started the engine and rolled down the window.

"Maybe it's because I'd want someone to do the same if it were my kid." She had barely him, it was so quiet she thought maybe she had imagined it. But that would mean her subconscious was wanting Dean to help her, because she thought he was sincere and it wasn't like he had done anything undeserving of her trust. And she trusted her gut; even if it meant ignoring her heart, which was telling her she just thought he was possibly the best looking specimen to ever walk the earth, and her brain, which was in agreement with the heart. She sighed and hit the steering wheel gently. She rolled down the passenger window and waited for Dean to step closer.

He leaned in, not touching the car and she gestured for him to get in. He raised his eyebrows. "You better get in before I change my mind," she told him

"Just making sure," he answered, sliding in.

**Oh gosh, it's been like 3 months? I'm really, really, deeply sorry. I suck, I apologize on behalf of me. Don't be scared to leave a review or message me if you're upset (or happy?) **


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. **

**Thanks to the new reviews and favorites and follows. You make my day shiny :)**

Emma had driven them back to the sheriff station where they were watching surveillance videos, trying to find footage of David and Henry together, but the pair wasn't having much luck so far. Then again they had only been working for about an hour.

"So I called Sam and he said Mary Margaret was looking better, but she's worried and wants to help out," Dean said to Emma, standing up and walking over to her office door. "Do you mind if I take your bug over and pick them up?"

She looked over to him and shook her head. "Make sure she's doing alright. She's probably out of her mind," she sighed. She slipped her keys out of her pocket and tossed them to Dean.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'll talk to her," he replied. He opened the door and stepped out. As it was swinging shut he heard her call, "And some coffee would be nice!" He shook his head and held back a smirk as he walked out the door.

* * *

><p>Dean knocked on the door to Emma and Mary Margaret's shared apartment and stood there, waiting, for about a minute before Sam, looking disheveled and jaded, opened the door.<p>

Dean eyed him curiously as he entered the room but his attention was immediately drawn to Mary Margaret. She was sitting stiffly on the couch with a nearly empty wine bottle in one hand. A half-gallon of Ben & Jerry's chocolate ice cream sat on the coffee table with the handle of a spoon peeking out from the top. _Gossip Girl _was playing, quietly, on the TV.

"She's been like that since you guys left," Sam murmured, sliding his hands into his pockets. Dean glanced back at him. "She's watched an entire season of this. And that's her… third tub of ice cream."

"Emma should really handle this…" Dean muttered and walked over to the couch, sitting down.

"'Hey, Mary… Margaret. I'm Dean. Sam's my brother. The guy who's been… watching you…" he said awkwardly. Mary Margaret turned the volume up on the TV and grabbed her ice cream tub.

"Go away," she mumbled dejectedly and shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

Dean shifted on his feet, tense and just uncomfortable in general. Sam motioned for him to get closer to the couch. Dean raised his eyebrows in a 'no way in hell' gesture.

Sam glared at him and mouthed, "Sit down or I will hide your Asian Beauties." Dean dropped his jaw.

"Fine," he mouthed.

Sam grinned in triumph and mouthed, "I'll wait in the car."

Dean glared at him and walked to the couch. Just as he was sitting down (Mary Margaret scooted as far away from him as she possibly could), he realized he didn't actually have one of his magazines in the Impala. He rubbed his forehead and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He turned sideways to face Mary Margaret.

"Emma's worried about you," he said gently. "She wanted me to see if you wanted to go down to the station, since she's working."

"On finding her son. And my husband is the one who kidnapped him. And assaulted Emma. And _me_." Her voice cracked with heartbreak and the ice cream tub and spoon fell out of her lap. She started sobbing. Dean's eyes widened in fear, but he was capable of reaching out and patting her back in a semi comforting way.

"She doesn't really want to see me, does she?" she asked him once the tears stopped and her breathing was closer to normal.

"Of course she does. She's your daught-." He stopped himself to late and Mary Margaret stiffened.

"What did you just say?" she questioned warily, facing him in an almost accusatory way.

"No- nothing. Slip of the tongue, no big deal," he stumbled for a decent response.

Her face turned into a mask of surprise. "You're lying. How did you know? How could you _possibly_ know?"

Dean crinkled his forehead and sighed before answering. "Henry. Henry let us see that fairy tale book."

Mary Margaret let out a dry laugh. "Of course he did. He most of known you'd believe." She looked confused. "Then again, why _do_ you believe? It took Emma breaking the curse for _any_ of us to believe."

It was Dean's turn to laugh dryly. "Well, it's not the craziest thing that has happened to Sammy and me," he replied. She cocked her head slightly, curious, but she didn't push him.

"So…," she started. "My daughter wants to see me." She stood up and wiped her hands over her face to remove any trace of her tears.

Dean grinned and stood up as well. "Yes, milady. And she wants coffee."

She chuckled. "Of course she does." He offered her his arm and she took it graciously, with a slight tilt of her head. They strolled out of the apartment in companionable silence.


	9. Chapter 9

**So it's definitely been a while since I've posted and it's totally understandable if you want to yell at me, but hopefully, this makes up for it.**

Sam had been dropped off at Gold's shop so he could follow the bug in the Impala back to the station and Mary Margaret chattered to Dean about how the forest looked this time of year.

The two waited for Sam to arrive and then the trio entered together. When Emma looked up from her desk work and caught sight of Mary Margaret, she bolted up and the women hugged each other tightly,Mary Margaret quickly whispering in Emma's ear. Dean shifted awkwardly behind them, glancing up at the ceiling and counting tiles, while Sam just shuffled his feet a little bit, eager to actually do something.

Emma pulled away from the embracement first and turned her gaze to the brothers, eyes narrowing into a glare as her eyes locked on Dean.

"As soon as this is over, you are _gone_. Understand?" She said it as more of a statement than a question. Nodding her head in confirmation (not giving any room for interjections), she jumped forward to the main topic. "We're not sure where Henry or David are, but we're working on that. And we need to be prepared to face anything. _Any_thing."

"How are you finding out where Henry is?" Dean asked, confused.

"How do I know I can trust you?" she retorted. Dean scoffed and shook his head.

"Right, okay, fine. Because you didn't lie to us either. Or hide who you really are," he shot back. "Don't be a hypocrite."

Sam and Mary Margaret looked at each other and away quickly. They began have internal debates with themselves about the same thing, but mainly just trying to see who would win.

"You were impersonating a federal officer! And I'm a cop!" she shouted at him.

"Um, technically, you're a sheriff," Mary Margaret offered. Emma pointed to her and nodded.

"And I'm a sheriff! You could be in jail; you should be in jail," Emma said, steaming.

"Well, I'm not and that's because you haven't arrested me because you need me and my expertise," Dean responded, pleased with himself.

Sam, however, was not impressed and snorted. Dean took a second to glare at him. "Honestly, I think she can handle it herself, Dean," Sam said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?" he responded, his voice positively filled with sarcasm. "Then I'll just leave." He walked out of the door, shutting it forcefully behind him.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, eyes on Mary Margaret, who looked very concerned. "He'll cool off eventu-." He was cut off by the sound of the Impala revving up as it left the station. "Or… or not."

The sound of the door slamming yet again, snapping Sam and Mary Margaret's gazes to it, then to each other.

"Em_ma_!" Mary Margaret called, chasing after her daughter, followed by Sam.

They got outside fast to barely see the tail end of Emma's Volkswagen go around the corner.

"I think Dean's going to be a while," Sam said defeatedly. Mary Margaret looked up at him.

"Then so will Emma. I've learned she's quite the tail," she replied in the same worn out tone.

* * *

><p>Emma's widened almost comically when she realized that Dean was going to the beach where Henry's old castle used to be. Part of hoping her intuition was wrong, but as she followed to the sandy shore, she bit back a harsh laugh. This, <em>this<em>, was too much.

Dean had parked as close to the beach as was possible on the pavement; the man really seemed to love his car. Emma rolled her eyes as she parked some distance away and watched him inspect his tires for any damage that might have been caused by what little sand was on the asphalt. When he finally appeared to have finished his examination, he opened the trunk and pulled out a beer and then walked around the car to relax against its hood. That seemed like the perfect time for Emma to get out and join him. After her day, she could really, _really_ use a beer.

She exited her bug and strolled over to the Impala. It was a really nice car now that she had a second to really look at it and appreciate it. As she got closer to it, Dean showed no outward signs of noticing her presence. She leaned against the hood as well and blinked in surprise when Dean handed her another beer. She hadn't noticed him grab the extra.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the cool drink.

"Yup," he answered, poppin his lips and taking another swig. They stood in silence, letting the air hang between them.

"So, you've known this whole time? About the town? About everyone?" she asked, but thinking '_About me?' _to herself. She turned to face him, but he continued to stare at the tide.

He sighed and held out his beer a little bit, squinting, then pulled it back. "Pretty much yeah." Emma turned away, nodding to herself, and pushing the hair off her forehead.

"Of course you did," she muttered. "And were you planning on telling me? That you knew? Or that you _weren't_ an officer?" She laughed unhumorously at the end.

"Oh, please, you figured out we weren't cops fairly quickly," Dean snapped to her. "And yes, I was going to tell you that I knew about this magic hoo-doo shit when ever it was necessary for the case."

They turned to face each almost simutaneously.

"It's not hoo-doo, okay? It's just… _magic_," Emma shrugged. Dean sighed and muttered something under his breath. Emma stiffened at what she thought she heard.

"Did you just say _She's witch, she's sleazy ?!_" she half-shouted, raising her beer in his face for a second and then taking a large swallow of it.

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "No, I _said_, '_At least witches are easy!'_ Good lord, calm down!"

Emma cocked her head in confusion. "What does _that_ mean?"

"It means witches are easy. Find the hexbag, burn the hexbag. If that doesn't work, you find the witch, then kill the witch. Like I said: easy."

"Wait, what?" Emma's beer bottle slid out of her hand and shattered on the asphalt. She barely blinked at the sound of the breaking glass.

"Oh c'mon! That beer was-" Dean broke off seeing Emma's face turn pale, he sighed. This was coming out very, _very_ wrong. "Okay, let me explain before you go running off, please?" She made no move, so he continued. "Sam and I are hunters. We kill the things that kill the people. And most of the time we kill the things no one knows about or everyone just thinks is a myth. Like vampires,' he trailed off, not seeing recognition in Emma's eyes.

"Are you okay? Are you listening?" he asked, concerned, and waved a hand in front of her face. She blinked and shook herself out of her stupor, nodding.

"Vampires," she said dully.

"Yeah… vampires. Only you don't stake them or use garlic. You behead them and use dead man's blood," Dean said, keeping an eye on her.

"What about… what about werewolves?" she asked slowly, not entirely meeting his gaze.

He nodded grimly and noticed her fists tightening at her sides. "You have to use silver, since they're a kind of shape-shifter. Believe me when I tell you, if there was a way for them to control their shifts, we wouldn't have to put them down." Emma glanced at him, dark and curious.

"I thought they could. Control the shifts I mean," she said hurriedly.

Dean shook his head and Emma noticed just how stern his expression was.

"We had a case a while back where there were a bunch of attacks. A woman who was helping us on the case was bit and we tried every theory, every rumor that said it would stop or control the shifts. And none of it worked and she ended up begging us to kill to her." He gulped, remembering how upsetting that had been for Sam. "And Sam did."

"If you lay a _finger_ on Ruby, so help me I _will_ kill _you_," Emma threatened, angrily shoving a finger in Dean's chest.

"Woah, woah, woah, Ruby's a different, weird kind of werewolf. Sam and I read Henry's book and if what it's saying's true, Ruby's as good as gold," Dean said, gently grabbing Emma's hand and pushing it back to her, taking a step forward- within a forearm's length of her.

She bit her lip and then frowned as she looked up at him. "Promise?" she asked.

He looked down at their hands- he was still holding hers- and then back to her eyes

. "Promise," he swore solemnly. Emma let loose a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Thank you," she murmured, and then acting on a whim (and quite possibly a desire), she pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his stiffened a moment, surprised, before relaxing into her and weaving his hands into her hair, unable to resist that golden temptation.

"You're welcome," he whispered into her ear. They stood there, embracing each other, for a few minutes before reluctantly parting and agreeing to head back to the sheriff's department to make plans for a rescue.

**Review please, it's been a while and I think I've gone rusty.**


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm back, apologies. Here's Chapter Ten:**

Dean and Emma made it back to the station and entered together. The looks of surprise and relief on Sam and Mary Margaret's faces were practically identical.

Dean leaned against the wall in Emma's office and she sat down in her chair at her desk, propping her feet up. Sam and Mary Mary Margaret were left standing awkwardly and they both shifted in discomfort. Dean crossed his arms, deciding to make up for what an ass he'd been in the only way he knew how.

"So, Sammy, you two come up with any theories?" he questioned, gesturing with his finger to them. They both drew a deep breath and glanced at each other. Sam scratched his head.

"To be honest," he said dejectedly, "we got nothing about where Henry is." Mary Margaret scoffed but then scrunched her forehead in thought.

"Well…" she started, "nothing that makes sense to the other person. That's probably... closer?" She glanced at Sam for confirmation and he bobbed his head. Dean cocked his head in confusion. Mary Margaret sighed with embarrassment.

"Well, I think it was a troll that somehow had access to a portal," she mumbled.

"Um…," Sam started hesitantly, sending a wary glance to her, "a demon. They can travel pretty quickly." Mary Margaret huffed.

"At least _trolls _are real," she responded instantly.

Sam shook his head and rubbed his face. "How many times do I have to tell you _demons are real_?" he shot back, like they had had this conversation a thousand times while Dean and Emma were gone.

"Oh, god," Dean grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Let's just say they're both real!"

"He was possessed by _something_," Emma said quietly, drawing everyone's attention. She stood up and began to pace the room. "Because it was him, I mean it was his body and his voice. It was just his _eyes_-" she cut off and stared at the floor.

"You said they were black?" Sam asked gently, to make sure it wasn't just something he'd heard from Dean. She nodded.

Mary Margaret worriedly rubbed her chin. "Will David be okay? Will that hurt him?"

"Physically, he should be fine. Emotionally, psychologically, that's a whole other story," Sam said. "He might've been awake and saw what the demon made him do or he might've been out. But Mary Margaret, if David is as strong as you've described him, he was probably fighting for control the whole time… it might be best not to get your hopes set too high."

"I just want him back," Mary Margaret whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "If he's back, we can fix it."

Emma folded her arms and stared at the ground with a frown. "What would a demon want with Henry? What's the benefit of-," she trailed off, her expression turning to one of horror.

"Oh, _no,'_ she breathed, sinking slowly to the floor.

"What is it?" Dean asked, squatting down next her.

"'The Heart of the Truest Believer'- David was talking about Henry and said something about him having the Heart of the Truest Believer. They want his heart," Emma deduced, hugging herself.

"Man," Dean said, sitting down. "That's creepy." Sam glared at him pointedly and Dean rolled his eyes in response.

"So they want to kill Henry?" Sam asked.

Mary Margaret shook her head, wiping at her eyes. "They wouldn't have to kill him. Just take out his heart with magic and he'd still be able to live. But whoever holds the heart controls it. This is a mess," she finished sullenly.

"Well, let's read that stupid fairytale book and find out what it has on the Truest Believer, okay?" Sam advised. "Dean and I can do the research. You guys get some rest."

"No, we're coming with you," Emma said. "Or at least I am."

"We both are," Mary Margaret affirmed, offering her daughter a hand. Emma accepted in and heaved herself up.

"Get up, Dean. We have better things to do besides sitting around all day," Sam said.

Dean scoffed as he stood, walking over to his brother. "I can make sure you're never able to sit again," he hissed into Sammy's ear. Dean pulled away and glared while Sam just chuckled.

"Alright, let's head out," he said, gesturing to the door. "Ladies first. That means you, Sammy-boy."

"You just contradicted yourself," Sam retorted.

"Shut up and get out."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for sticking with this story guys, I appreciate it so much. Your reviews mean a lot to me.<strong>

**-Liv**


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